Camping (Mark Cohen) Mist is dancing on the lake Sun is rising, I'm awake Feeling every muscle ache Camping City born and city bred City noises in my head Wrapped up in a nylon bed Camping Feel the silence of the trees Taste the sweetness of the breeze Wrap a bandage round my knees Camping I don't think I've ever seen the sky so full of stars I don't think I've ever been this far away from cars I don't think my feet can walk another thirty yards On a trail aimed at the sky Must be near a mile high Wish my pack could learn to fly Camping Count the blisters, every sore Count the bugs declaring war Count on being back for more Camping Copyright Mark Cohen MC
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!